


Home is with You

by DMichelleWrites



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Hot Tub, Missionary Position, Oral Sex, Skinny Dipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: Join Oliver, Felicity, and their family on an usually typical day in Gotham City. Felicity was having trouble finishing her speech for her new Smoak Enterprises home security system, how exactly does she find inspiration? When the kiddos were away, a very sexy date night ensued. Lots ofTo All The Boys I've Loved Beforereferences.





	Home is with You

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of _To All The Boys I've Loved Before_ nods, but this isn't that AU. I do hope you enjoy nonetheless. And if you loved the movie on Netflix, it's actually part one in a book series trilogy by the fabulous Jenny Han, who pulls a Stan Lee esque cameo in the movie. I'd highly recommend reading the first book, watch the movie, and then read the other two. However, you don't need to any of that to enjoy this story.
> 
> For those wondering why my stories have been set in Gotham, this sounds weird, but I'm actually mad at fictional Star City for sending Oliver to Supermax without trial. So a Gotham setting is my way of saying, "Fuck canon." Also, Felicity has a tech subsidiary there with Bruce.

Overcast clouds blanketed the sky. Fog was an all too common occurrence in Gotham City, no matter the time of year. Oliver’s breakfast in bed was for his wife was quite the contrast. An array of rich scents wafted throughout the kitchen. He had a tray full of what Felicity called his ‘seductive’ pumpkin pancakes with a side of crisp turkey bacon and an egg white omelet. Felicity’s most important meal of the day was not complete without a hot latte that had two pinches of sugar and a splash of coconut creamer.

William plucked small white lily from a vase in the living room to add on to the tray. He guessed, “Apology breakfast?”

His chuckle sounded far from amused, “It’s the weekend.”

“Sorry,” His son raised a hand in feigned defense. “Raisa thought it’d be fun to take Tommy and me to the Science Museum.”

Oliver grinned, “You two are wild men.”

William laughed much too hard at his father’s little quip.

His forehead crinkled, “What do you want?”

“Can I…?”

“No.”

The teenager scoffed, “Dad, you didn’t even let me finish my sentence.”

“Too bad.” His father said with a strict gaze, “You were going to ask ‘Can I drive us, Dad?’ And the answer is still no. Not until you get your learners’ permit, William Connor Clayton-Queen.”

Will grumbled, “Felicity’s breakfast is getting cold.”

Despite the fifteen-year-old’s disappointment, he marched to place Tommy’s seat in the car like Raisa asked a moment ago.

The bedroom door creaked open, and a sense of peace washed over Oliver. Felicity lied face first onto her husband’s pillow. She was spread out like a starfish with a nest of blonde tangled hair, dark roots, and, drool. He set her food down at the end of the bed for a second. His calloused hand slid up her arm, gently nudging her shoulder.

“Felicity, Honey…” Her husband whispered sweetly.

She groaned half-asleep, “Mm, bubbe, nooo! It’s too early for synagogue.”

He chuckled, taking a different approach. The mattress dipped as his good knee pressed against it. Oliver brushed back his wife’s curly frazzled locks. She felt soft gentle smooches trail from her neck to that very first battle scar on her left shoulder.

Felicity guessed, finally opening her eyes, “Ol’ver?” She looked at him. He wore a denim shirt with one open button and khaki pants that hugged his tush so damn well. Rubbing crusty remains of sleep from her eyes, his wife warned, “Not now!”

Oliver laughed, “I wasn’t enough even thinking about sex. Why would you assume that?”

The blonde hacker yawned, stretching out as if she was a cat under a sunbeam, “Because you’re a man.”

“Huh, I’ll try not to take offense to that.”

“It’s not offensive, Honey. It’s just a fact. Besides, you being a gentleman is one of the many reasons I fell in love with you.”

He prodded, “Well, yeah, but you’re also bisexual.”

She smiled, “Fair point, that will never change.” Felicity glanced down at the engagement ring and wedding band on her finger. “But I married you because I love you.You’re my person. You’re stuck with me ‘til death do us part. Don’t get any ideas about dying on me either when you go out on patrol with Bruce and Selina tonight. Understood?”

Dimples pooled in his cheeks, “Yes, Mrs. Smoak-Queen.”

Regardless of morning breath, Felicity gasped when his pillowy lips met hers in a longing, passionate kiss. Her hand gripped his shirt collar while his found its way into her hair. Their noses brushed against one another and he finished it off with a soft peck like a cherry atop a sundae.

“Now may I eat my breakfast from my oh so adorable husband before you have to re-heat it?”

“Of course.”

Oliver’s hand rested on her knee as she ate. They shared mustlings about silly dreams and plans for the day. This morning was relatively quiet by vigilante, CEO, and tech standards. There wasn’t even a mugger to thwart or cat up a tree to save.

Halfway through her meal, Felicity spoke, stuffing an egg bite on the side of her mouth, “No sower, ‘ink, ‘n’ stud.”

“We have to go to Shower, Sink, and Stuff to replace that lamp we broke after you came home from last month’s San Francisco trip.”

Ooh, now that was a super fun night. Her bag and jacket barely hit the floor before Oliver scooped Felicity up, and they had reunion sex against a support beam. Then they had a repeat performance in their dual shower with pulsating jets.

“I don’t wanna.” Felicity whined, resembling their three-year-old.

“Tough, Felicity.” Her husband reminded, “Because if you want me to go solo, I’m probably going to pick something you hate. You know I’ll know because you’ll make the bad-fish-smell face.”

She scoffed, clutching her invisible Star of David necklace, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Oliver.”

He scrunched his face with pouty lips like Felicity would when she hated just about any of her husband’s past questionable choices.

“This face right here.” Oliver gestured to his mug.

Felicity teased, chucking one of her pillows at him, “God, you’re getting old.”

“So is that a yes?”

“They better have Gertie back at the sample table with those delicious meatballs. And I have to be back in time to finish up my speech.”

“It’s a deal.”

Oliver thought it best to stay mum on the whole meatball samples issues. Gertrude was a sweet elderly lady, nearing her eighties. However, Oliver simply did not trust meatballs prepared in the kitchen section of a domestic item retail store.

Felicity changed out of her pajamas into a lavender dress, heavy Army green cargo jacket, and black pumps. Her husband swapped out his stained denim shirt and khakis with cheese holes for a nice white T-shirt, blue jeans, and a leather jacket. To them, it was their casual weekend wear. Though from Star City to Gotham, the Queens and Waynes were a couple of the nation’s royal families. To paparazzi, they stepped out of their East Coast compound, appearing as if a modern day Grace Kelly and James Dean walked straight from a magazine. She detested the flashbulbs and chatter from rowdy people, swarming around them like bees.

She grit, eyes squinting as Oliver led the way to his Ducati, “I’m going to go blind over here.”

“We can lose ‘em on 39th street,” Oliver promised in a whisper, tossing his wife a crimson helmet before he pecked her cheek.

His motorcycle engine rumbled. Felicity held onto him tight as she straddled the back of the bike. They ditched the ratty photographers and gossip columnists faster than Barry racing Cheetah before her imminent capture. Oliver just had to make a quick stop at the Farmers’ market because parsnips and potatoes were on sale.

Felicity rolled her eyes, “Oliver, are we done yet?”

“Patience, young padawan.” Her Mr. Master Chef of a husband insisted, rubbing her back.

Her lips pressed together in thin line, “Oh, don’t try to butter me up with _Star Wars_ references.”

“No, but I know who would go good with wine,” He said, only loud enough for his wife to hear.

“Oliver.”

Felicity admonished, though that telltale blush spread from her cheeks to decolletage was a dead giveaway.

“I thought you were going to check up on the boys.”

The tech mogul pulled out her very own Smoak Enterprises SQ-Phone to video chat with William, Tommy, and Raisa.

She led with a scary loud greeting, “William Connor Clayton-Queen, you are in so much trouble when you get home.”

“What? What? Did he drive the car after I specifically told him no?”

“Worse.” Felicity gasped in fear, absolutely scandalized, “Look!”

“Oh, Honey,” Oliver soothed, holding her close. “So they went to the kanga…”

“Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. Those wretched marsupials are evil.”

“But Tommy loves them.”

“I wanna talk to Mama.” Tommy demanded, grabbing the phone from his brother, “Look, Mama. ‘Roos are nice now.”

A little head popped out of its mother’s pouch.

“And there’s her baby Joey,” William pointed out to the toddler.

She tensed, forcing a smile, “Have fun.”

“We love you,” Her man finished the call.

Felicity muttered under her breath, “Betrayed by my own sons.”

“You know what?” Oliver redirected, leading her to his motorcycle after he left a wad of cash on the vegetable stand, “I think it’s time for Shower, Sink, and Stuff.”

The duo made a quick trip to one of the largest stores in Gotham. Unfortunately, the press caught up to them, shouting them and catcalling both Felicity and Oliver. Those leeches were lucky the Queens were holding hands because a pair of those idiots would’ve experienced a double decker, not the sandwich. The fists, but they remained calm and focused on the task at hand. Although, Felicity procured a freshly cooked meatball from her friend Gertie. She chewed with an inaudible grumble.

“Rat bastards,” Felicity’s anger quickly diffused when she noticed her husband randomly clenching his butt cheeks. He wasn’t aware of it, even though it was a habit after his workout, “Oliver, honey, your buns are doing that thing again.”

Felicity stuck her hand is back pocket akin to the opening scene in _Sixteen Candles_ or the first film in her favorite new romcom trilogy _To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before_.

He winked with a chuckle, “Getting a little cheeky there, Hon.”

Gee, that was a such a dad joke, but it still made her laugh. Oliver spun her abruptly. Felicity giggled softly in response.

“Yes, my Love?”

He stuck a pink Post-it note in between her fingertips.

His voice dipped to Green Arrow level low, “This is for when we get home later.”

“Okay.”

Felicity would’ve teased him about the low-tech way of sharing information with her. In fact, this note in his messy masculine handwriting was very reminiscent of high school, except her little sister Alena was in with popular crowd.

“I owe you one for today.”

She read aloud, “Date night in…” Felicity paused at the sexier plans, patting his shoulder, “I’m your girl.”

“Always.” He reminded with his arm slung low around her waist. Felicity’s hand remained in his back pocket for the rest of the shopping trip.

Felicity found a simple gray lamp with a funky geometric design, perfect for their living room. They met up with their sons back at home for lunch, especially so one. Mr. Thomas Robert Queen could take a nap before they saw _Catwoman: The Feisty, Funny, and Feline_ Broadway musical. Oliver went out back to the yard with Tommy in one arm and a hot pastrami sandwich in the other.

She stopped typing, looking up from her laptop, “Honey, I’m eating enough I promise.”

“Uh-huh.” He said in disbelief, smiling at her closing statement which became a rehash of Dr. Seuss’ _One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish,_ “Take a bite please.”

“Oliver, I really need to…”

Tommy interrupted with the stubbornness of his father, “Eat, mama. It’s yummy.”

Aw, how could she say no to that cute little Bubba love of hers?

Felicity took a hearty bite of her sandwich, which Tommy applauded with a ‘yay’ against his lime green sippy cup. This sandwich had the perfect bread to filling ratio — crisp lettuce, a nice acidic slice of tomato, ooey gooey melted cheddar cheese, and was that? No, he didn’t. He did, but the question was how?

Upon swallowing, Felicity surmised, “This is my favorite pastrami from that artisanal Jewish deli all the way across the city. When did Daddy find time to get this?”

“I don’t know.” Tommy shrugged without spilling his grape juice.

“Well, I asked Alena if they do deliveries.”

Still, it was the thought that counted. Raisa lifted Tommy out of Oliver’s arms since his bath was ready. The off-duty Emerald Archer snookered a taste of her delicious lunch, if he said so himself.

“Hey, my food.” His wife mock reprimanded, moving her plate. “Get your own plate, mister cheffy.”

“Too bad. Gotta be quicker than that, Baby. So how’s your speech going?”

She deadpanned, “Come on, we both know you peeked.”

“Yeah, yeah. I did.” Oliver confessed, kneading away those tense knots in her neck and shoulders, “Maybe I can help take your mind off it.”

“Not yet, but soon.”

Felicity sauntered away, knowing full well Oliver’s gaze drifted down to her ass. He hated when his wife left, but loved to watch her go. She checked William’s extra credit math assignment, which was college freshman level Advanced Placement curriculum. And it was one hundred percent correct. Oliver played race cars with Tommy before they left for a good night in Gotham

Night soon fell. The Green Arrow substituted night patrol with Batman and Catwoman thanks to Green Lantern. Felicity adjusted William’s actual necktie and Tommy’s as well, though her youngest son’s tie stuck in with Velcro. Oliver helped Raisa with the clasp on her gold necklace with a single pearl.

Raisa exited with her pair of fine young gents, “Best double date ever.”

William chuckled, and the trio went on their way. A robust Mexican Chorizo stew simmered in Oliver’s precious slow cooker. Empty bowls and utensils were left on the coffee table. Felicity nursed a refreshing Gin Rickey thanks to their buddy Hal’s new alcohol endorsement, Ferris Wheel Gin. Oliver nipped at his neat scotch as the couple partook in individual chocolate lava cakes.

“This is the sweetest,” Felicity mewled, using her guy like a couch cushion.

Oliver concurred, foot tapping to the legendary voice of Ray Charles on vinyl, “Mm-hm.”

“Your hands are amazing. You’re a virtuoso of massages.”

He smirked, “You’re just saying that because you’re warm and liquored up.”

“Nooo.” His wife protested, “Hal and Carol’s gin hardly gets me drunk. I am a little chilly though.”

“You want me to throw another log on the fire?”

“Or we could soak in the hot tub.”

He thought, “Both our swimsuits are torn from our anniversary adventure in the DR.”

“Who said anything about swimsuits?” Felicity suggested, voice dropping to a sexy tone.

“But what if we…?”

“Oliver, just kiss me, say yes, and don’t worry.”

“Yeah…Yes.”

He was very excited about the turn this evening took.

“Honey, don’t do the fist pump. That’s mine.”

Oliver followed his wife because he’d go wherever she led.

Thankfully, their Gotham compound was surrounded by empty office and industrial buildings, so no prying eyes could sneak a peek, despite this city being one that never slept.

“I… Um.”

He was at a loss for words when Felicity let her lavender dress fall onto the concrete. She tied her hair into a bun, so chemicals avoided turning her blonde locks green. Felicity perched at the edge of the hot tub, giving Oliver a tantalizingly stunning view of her strong back littered with scars he wished she never got in the first place. His gaze traveled lower, and her ass looked full, rounded and delicious. God, he wanted to touch and taste every single inch of her body right now.

Felicity submerged herself into the warm bubbly water. She swam to one end, waiting for him.

She teased, letting her hands slip under the water, “Are you going join me, or do I have to get warm all by myself? I mean, it is more fun with you.”

On that note, Oliver practically ripped his shirt, pants, and boxers. He swam to her, akin to a sailor and a mermaid.

“Hey, you.” His breath tickled her ear.

Her nails lightly raked through his stubble, “Hi.”

“Felicity Megan, you look beautiful.”

Words, actual words. Who needed those when their bodies do all the talking? Her skin flushed red, and it had little to do with hot water and good jets. Smiles crossed their mouths. Finally, after a breath, they shared what started out as a chaste kiss in the moonlight. That smooch grew insatiable as did they, Oliver nipped at her bottom lip. Felicity moaned into his mouth, barely taking time to breathe. Her tongue snaked its way into mouth. Water sloshed as he gently pushed her back against the pulsating jets. She gasped, purposefully splashing him.

“T-too much.” Felicity stuttered, wrapping her legs around his hips, “I don’t need those. I want you, Oliver.”

Cupping her face delicately, Oliver swore, “You have me, all of me.”

Her hands carded through his hair. They spanned his back scars, caressing each one with a feather light touch. His nerves tingled with pleasure, and they had only just begun. His fingers started to get pruny, holding Felicity in the water this long. Oliver sucked and nipped at her pulse point as she ground her sweltering heat against his growing erection.

“Oliver, just…” His wife pleaded. A leaf suddenly drifted down into the water. Her pleasured rush backtracked to excerpts of a _Women’s Health_ magazine article about how unsanitary hot tub sex truly was. She pinched his broad shoulder. Her pitch rose in one quick breath without pause, “ _Honey, Honey_.”

“Hmm…?” He mumbled against her neck, sneaking in a little booty grab.

She bit her lip, “Maybe we should move our party indoors?”

“Hot tub sex germ article?”

“Uh-huh, how’d you know?”

Her husband mentioned, “I read a similar thing in _GQ_ when I learned to do the move Iris featured on page 189 of her novel. I can’t believe you told her.”

“Really?” Felicity slapped his pec, “I’m a blurter. You knew that well before you married me.”

Eh, she got him there.

“Well, I…”

Naked wife in his arms. Sweet loving and release were mere moments away.

With a hand on her hip, she pointed out, “Besides I was only bragging about you.” Felicity’s red painted toenails pricked his calf, “Speaking of, you. Me. Bedroom now.”

“Right,” He nodded.

Water gurgled and spilled out as Oliver climbed out the hot tub stark naked with his wife in his arms. They foregoed their clothes and towels. It was definitely the wrong choice with this bitter chill of autumn air.

“Holy, fuck. It’s freezing.” Felicity cursed, clinging to him tightly for warmth.

Yet all Oliver thought about was getting to their guest bedroom downstairs. Her taunt nipples poked his torso, wet skin pressing against his. Granted, their shared body heat and his calloused palms sweeping over her back kept the chill tolerable. They dripped onto the hardwood floor. None of all that mattered now because Oliver and Felicity were inside their compound, where it was so much warmer. Still, she trembled in his arms.

“Baby, you’re shaking. Are you sure we should do this?”

“Hell, yes. I’m fine. Maybe you just need to warm me up.”

How Oliver managed to open the door to a room they barely used while holding Felicity was beyond him. But they made it. They quickly rinsed off the chlorine from the hot tub with the fastest shower they had ever taken. Although Felicity certainly tried to move things along when she delicately squeezed the tip of his cock. After drying off with Oliver’s towel, Felicity’s bare feet padded the floor.

“Oh, wait ‘til I get you.”

Their laughter was a chorus in an unusually quiet night. The Queens enjoyed this little game of cat and mouse. Oliver trailed behind her swiftly with those ninja skills of his. He wrapped both around her, and she craned her neck up to kiss him. Their joy soon transformed into desire, need, and lust when Felicity dropped their damp towels on the carpet.

She found herself wedged between their bedroom wall, and the wall that was her husband’s pure muscle. Of course, Oliver being Oliver cushioned her head with his hands. Hands that were forged into weapons could never be more gentle with her..

Felicity joked, “Seems familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Mm-hm,” He hummed.

His mouth enveloped hers, and they were right back where they started in the hot tub. Only this time, they just had to amp things up because the anticipation became extremely unbearable with each passing second. His lips and stubble descended deviously over her torso, pausing only to tease her nipples. They both groaned when he shoved his palm right against her sex. She was already so wet and warm. He ran his fingertips from her entrance to his clitoris.

“ _Oliver._ ”

His name was a wisp on her lips, but no more fooling around. Especially since Felicity began to get that mad look in her eyes, which both turned him on and terrified him with one glance into baby blues. She fully expected him to thrust two digits inside her, and work those magic fingers of his until she came.

Thought that was not what he did. His lips resumed the pathway down her torso. Felicity pulled at his short blonde locks in a dangerous cocktail of frustration and wanton pleasure. His tongue dipped into her navel before he sank down his knees. She spread her legs open on instinct, and still to her surprise, her thighs rested on his shoulders. His face buried between her legs as he ate without so much as a warning

“Felicity.”

He paused for a breath.

Fingers threaded through his hair, she whimpered, “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. Oliver nipped at her inner thighs, stubble leaving small pink prick marks, where nobody but he or Felicity could see. She thrust against his face, Oliver let her move the way she way, enamored by the fact she took pleasure in him after all these years. Oliver lapped up her juices. She was rich, tangy, sweet, feminine and pure Felicity. At this point in their marriage, he could tell every little sign of his wife’s impending release — the warm blush of her skin, trembling thighs, and those quick short needy breaths. His tongue riffed against a spot deep inside, and that was it. His azure eyes flicked up just before she came. Her back arched, letting out a stuttering breath. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ as a string of unintelligible syllables fell from her lips. Felicity was a mix of sin, beauty, and brains all in one.

“You’re amazing, Felicity.” His voice was husky as he wiped his chin.

Her muscles felt like gelatin, but that didn’t stop them from melding into a messy, carnal kiss. Felicity moaned, tasting herself on his lips.

When they broke apart, Felicity insisted. “Take me to bed.”

Oliver would never admit it, but his back pain flared up a touch, trembling slightly when he swept Felicity into his arms. Her ankles locked just above his ass, kissing until they fell back on blue plaid sheets in a heap of tangled limbs. Their breaths danced across each other as they laughed. God, Felicity appeared damn near angelic with a bright toothy grin. Her damp blonde waves fanned over the pillows. Her eyes were mitigated with lust, and her body was the antithesis of his own. She was soft, smooth, and gentle.

His nose brushed against, tucking strands of hair behind her ear, “I love you more than you know.”

“Hmm…” She thought, tapping a finger on her lips, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

“Do you now?” He played along, nibbling on her earlobe.

Oliver attempted to make this night last longer. Felicity could see how this moment right now affected him. His arousal grazed the goddamn comforter, and it certainly didn’t him any comfort. Felicity sneaked a hand between their bodies, pumping him slowly. He rasped her name in annoyance.

His wife had an almost feline smirk, “Oh, I’m sorry, Honey. Did you have something to add?”

“Felicity.” Her husband grunted, removing her palm and pinning it above her head, “Baby, not tonight. Please. I just… I need to be with you. I want to feel you around me when I…”

“Oliver, just do it.”

No cliche ‘Make Love To Me’ moment. Felicity had always known what she wanted. It didn’t make their date night in any less romantic. And since Oliver was being honest, Felicity’s take charge attitude in the bedroom was a major turn on. He positioned himself at her entrance and thrusted deep inside, savoring the pure electric feeling of when they were together. His groan echoed her unsurprised gasp. They stayed immovable, lost in little kisses and each other’s eyes. His thumbs prodded her dimples. Her muscles clenched around him purposefully.

“ _Oh, God_ …”

Oliver’s eyes nearly crossed. He got the hint, pulling out and thrusting back in completely. She trembled, legs setting higher on his back just above the burn scar. They developed a slow, staccato rhythm. He pushed up on his toes, towering over as his pelvis hit right against her clitoris.

“Ooh, just like that.” Felicity chanted, “Right there, _right there, yes_!”

But it still wasn’t enough. Oliver yanked a hand out from under her, reaching between their bodies until the rough pads of fingertips rubbed hard, fast circled over her slick clitoris. She shoved her face into his neck, quieting her moans. Her hand slapped against his butt cheek lightly. He spilled into her in long, hot spurts just as she squeezed him snugly. They fell over the edge together. Oliver kept thrusting until they both had nothing left. The couple clung to each other. A breeze later brought them back to their senses.

Her husband rolled over to his side, despite Felicity’s protests of him wanting to stay.

With open arms, he welcomed her embrace, “C’mere you.”

“Excellent work, Mr. Queen.” Felicity taunted with a Cheshire grin.

Oliver pouted, brows knitting together, “You just made me feel cheap, woman.”

“But you like when I’m bossy,” Felicity countered with her tongue stuck out, playing with his fingertips.

He relented, “True.”

Every moment with Felicity and the boys felt like home no matter where they were. Home was with her.

Felicity had her idea face.

“That’s it. That’s the perfect ending of my speech,”

She cut their cuddle time short, wrapped herself in one of their discarded towels, and finally finished her speech for the SQ Home Security System, WatchTower.

“Felicity, don’t think I’m going to forget this during our anniversary next month.”

She planted a bit wet kiss on his lips, “Baby, what we just had was mind-blowing and inspirational. You were perfect, and this is just what I needed to get rid of my writers’ block.”

He guessed he could take that as a compliment.

Oliver waved off, lips ticking up, “Okay, fine go. Create techno magic for your speech.”

“I’ll be back soon. Promise.”

Thankfully, Felicity had fast and nimble fingers. She returned to bed while Oliver wrote in his journal. They talked about future plans and slept while snuggled up next to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and Kudos are appreciated.  
> Say hey, and please let me know what you think in the comments.  
> Tumblr: [DMichelleWrites](http://dmichellewrites.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@dmichellewrites](https://twitter.com/dmichellewrites)


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